Of Sea and Cloud (8 page)

Well I never got to drive one before.

You'll be a pro in a few minutes. He pushed the fish racks into the water a few at a time as they circled. They made one lap around the pound and he pointed her to the center and she steered toward a small lobster buoy. Bill set his shovel on the fish racks and stooped over and pulled the buoy out of the water. Small waves lapped over the scow edge. Everything was dark except the small body of water. Bill hauled up a big mesh bait bag and pulled it inside out. It was empty.

They're hungry, he said. He broke a few tails off the racks and threw the heads overboard and put the tails in the bag.

What's that? Erma Lee said.

He straightened. This here's a feedbag. When it's empty you figure they need fed. If it's full they still got enough to eat.

How many you got in here, Bill?

A set of headlights came out of the woods and stopped behind Bill's truck. Bill watched and from within the glow of the pound's floodlights he could just make out a black truck. It looked like Osmond Randolph's and he waited to be sure but couldn't tell. His heart raced. He thought about Jonah cutting Osmond's gear on the Leviathan.

That Osmond? he said.

Erma Lee turned. I don't know. It looks like him. Oh the Lord I'm scared of that man, Bill.

Let's finish this feeding, Bill said. Make another few rounds and we'll be done.

They finished feeding and as they motored back Bill put his weight on the bow to drive it underwater. When it dove he walked to the stern and the bow rose and a curtain of water rushed over the deck and rinsed the salt and flecks of fish flesh from the wood. When they got closer he saw Osmond step out of the truck and walk into the building.

Bill tied the scow to a pylon and Erma Lee whispered into is ear, I'm scared, Bill.

Jesus, he muttered as she climbed the ladder but then he looked up and saw Osmond silhouetted and looming as if stepping from the floodlight. He reminded himself that it was just that morning that Jonah had cut the traps off so Osmond could not know but that fact felt somehow irrelevant.

Erma Lee climbed slowly and Osmond reached his hand down and helped her up. Bill took a breath and climbed the ladder and straightened himself in front of Osmond. Osmond stood four inches taller than Bill and thicker all around.

William, Osmond said. He reached his hand out and Bill took it.

Osmond.

You are picking up where your father left off?

I guess I been helping the old man feed these bugs long enough to do it. Bill hooked the stack of empty fish trays that were nested together and dragged them across the floor to the corner of the room. Erma Lee stood beside the scale.

William, Osmond said. He took a cod rack from one of the trays and turned it and smelled it and tossed it back. Your father was one of the few men I've ever respected.

That's good. Me too.

Osmond rubbed his hands together. I'm fifteen years older than he was. I've always assumed that I would go before he did. Do you understand?

Bill tried to hold Osmond's gaze but he felt hot and the room felt tight and pinched and maybe he did understand but he didn't know. He blinked several times. Understand what?

Just then the waning moon crested the waterline and shone through the single dirty window and cast a fray of light over Osmond like a flare. Osmond's eyes held Bill. I haven't been expecting this, he said and moved his hands across a waist-high plain as if removing the creases from a sheet.

Me neither, Bill said. He wasn't sure what Osmond was talking about unless it was the Leviathan but he could not know about the Leviathan. Bill turned his gaze to the end of the building where large blue plastic feed bins held a ton of feed each.

Osmond took a step toward Bill. His face was lined with vertical wheals of skin that seemed to glow in the dirty moonlight. That feed won't last long.

The old man always done the feed. We been feeding a thousand pounds every two days so we got enough for another two weeks. But they'll slow down once this temperature drops, Bill said. He wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead and looked at Erma Lee. She picked at a loose thread on her jeans.

Osmond's eyes followed Bill's to Erma Lee then shifted back to Bill. Has the insurance company contacted you, William?

What insurance company?

Osmond held his hands together at his waist. It was a long time before he responded. I believe you and your brother are due a settlement.

I ain't heard a thing, Bill said.

Let me know when you do. I will help if you need it.

Thanks, Bill said. I figure I can handle her.

Osmond's face softened and he settled on his feet. The Lord recognizes his own, William Graves.

The following morning and three miles to the southeast and just before dawn Osmond rowed his skiff with his three grandchildren in it through the ink-black water and rushing tide to his boat
Sanctity
. He lifted the twin girls one by one over the washrail. The boy Julius held the skiff as Osmond climbed aboard. Wind poured from the sky. The two little girls both wore hoods over their blond braids. They were half-asleep and he carried them below one at a time and put them in the small forward bunks.

Do you want earplugs in, girls?

I do.

Does Rhonda?

She never does. She doesn't care, Grandfather.

Osmond twisted a piece of paper towel and wetted it on his tongue and slid a wedge into each of Dolly's ears. He went to Rhonda. She was asleep already and he kneeled next to her and his hair fell along the sides of his face. Rhonda's chest rose and fell in quick breaths and a small gargling came from her throat. He stuffed the wetted paper into her ears and she stirred and wiped at his hands and at her ears but he waited with one hand pressed like a spade atop her chest and soon she slept. When he came up Julius was standing on the bow with the wind in his face. He wore orange oilgear. His hood was up. He was twenty years old and his skin was dark and smooth and an arrowhead patch of hair grew beneath his lips.

Osmond fired the engine and let it idle as he wiped the inside of the Plexiglas windows down with paper towel. He tossed the towels overboard. He nodded and Julius bent and heaved on the bridle and worked it over the bit and out of the chocks and dropped it overboard then walked down the washrail. He gripped the steel davit and swung himself into the wheelhouse and landed with a thud.

Soon you'll have your own boat, Osmond said.

Julius peered out over the running tide and chop. Yeah, and I'm gonna be the biggest sonofawhore lobsterman in all of America.

Osmond turned the circular windshield wiper on then shut it off. Watch your language, Julius, he said and turned the boat and headed through the mouth of the reach.

The islands were crow black in the morning. He cut inside a green Coast Guard buoy which flashed and groaned as they passed. The moon moved through the southern sky and somehow reminded him of Nicolas but then again everything now reminded him of Nicolas. In the distance he could see the lighthouse on Drown Boy Rock and beyond the lighthouse the last stars of Orion plunged into the sea just as Nicolas had plunged into the sea and Osmond reminded himself that one act was not separate from the other for both were acts of the heavens long since conceived.

The biggest in all of the U-S-of-A, Julius said again.

Listen, Julius. You are a strong young man now and you will have your own boat soon but you are still nothing on this earth. Look around you. Osmond spread his arms one to the sea and one to the stars. We are so small.

Julius rubbed the arrowhead of hair and said, My sled ain't small. Soon as she's splashed I ain't setting foot on this boat.

That's fine. Osmond worked the wheel with one hand as he stepped into his black oilskin barvel. But that won't be for another few weeks and God rest Neveah Elaine's soul I swore an oath to her.

I guess I'm raised.

You've done well, Osmond said. He veered east and ran along a line of spruce-covered islands rimmed with slabs of pink granite like foreheads. They passed Spencer Ledges and hit the open sea.

Julius chewed on his bottom lip. I got them lazy bastards working nights on my sled. She'll be done soon. Just buy them beer and they'll work.

Osmond glanced at the boy through the sides of his eyes and felt a rip of muscle drive up his sides and into his hands. He squeezed the boat wheel. Don't rush a boat like that, Julius. You won't get a chance for a new boat again soon.

I aim to get me a new boat whenever I damned well please, Julius said as he opened the stainless steel baitbox and peered into the twenty bushels of salted herring resting in their own septic grease.

You won't always have that kind of money.

Julius ignored him and pulled a plug on the baitbox and drained the blood and oil into a plastic five-gallon bucket and dumped it overboard.

• • •

The eastern sky lit an apron of clouds. Thirty minutes later the sun lifted from the water. The sea turned blue and clear. Julius stood stuffed tight to Osmond's side and Osmond stole a glance at Julius's serious face and the boy didn't scare him but the fact that he even thought of fear was troublesome. After Julius's mother had died and his father had left Osmond had adopted his three grandchildren. He'd rearranged his life for them and rebuilt his home for them and soon everything had become for them.

Osmond breathed the salt air. He held it in his lungs until they burned. He gripped the steering wheel tight and steamed offshore for another hour. There were no other boats on the water. Julius baited bags and piled them on one side of the baitbox and when they neared the first ten-trap trawl Osmond throttled back and went below.

Do you girls want to get up and help fish these traps?

They didn't move and he shook Dolly's leg. It was thin and light in his grip. He shook it again. Dolly? Are you alive down here?

She woke up and pinched the paper towel from her ears. The steady banging of pistons within cylinders filled the fiberglass hull.

You want to help fish these traps?

Okay. I'm coming but let me get Rhonda up too. Dolly rubbed her eyes with her fists and pushed the blankets off and woke Rhonda. Rhonda shook her head and wouldn't look at Osmond. He waited.

You want to help your old grandfather catch lobsters Rhonda? I'm too old to do it without your help.

The girl looked at Dolly with empty eyes.

Come on up here quick. We'll get you some cocoa to keep you warm.

Are there any whales out today, Grandfather? Dolly said.

No, not today.

I want to see one.

You'll see one again sometime soon. They've all gone on vacation, but they'll be back.

Osmond climbed the three steps back up to the wheelhouse and saw Julius holding the wheel in one hand and with the other hand he held the gaff over the side like a trident. Osmond watched the boy for a moment then stacked six fish trays into two piles. When the girls came up he lifted them into the trays. Their legs hung out as the boat rode the chop and swell.

That comfortable?

I'm cold.

You'll warm up soon, he said and spread their blanket over the both of them.

He took the gaff from Julius and set it on the washrail. He stared at the horizon and as he did so he felt calmness rising like warm water. He knew this feeling to be faith and he knew the ocean to be the only external source of faith he had left but nevertheless Nicolas dug at his heart. He breathed in and out with slow methodic breaths until he felt Nicolas rest.

Look over the sea, Osmond whispered to his grandchildren.

Look at what, Grandfather? Dolly said.

Julius leaned against the washrail opposite Osmond. He wants us to see the Lord out there is what. Same as ever.

That is right, Julius, Osmond said.

I don't see a thing, Julius said.

You must be still long enough, Julius. Faith is something you must learn and accept. Watch the water. Everything there is to know can be found on the water. Osmond watched the sea in silence for three full minutes then looked at his grandchildren and nodded.

He steered the boat to his first buoy and gaffed it and hauled it aboard. The rope coiled at his feet. The boat surged up and down and spiraled around the rising rope as if untangling it from the whirlwind. Julius stayed at the bait tub with his hands resting on its steel rim. The traps rose one at a time until he had ten lined on the washrail and Osmond ran his hand down the wooden runner beneath a trap and held it before Julius. The orange rubber glove was covered with dark stinking mud and crushed shell.

Do you see that?

I see that, said Julius.

You have got to understand the bottom you're fishing.

It's mud.

Osmond rubbed the mud around his palm with his thumb. It's soft mud and shell. No clay in it.

Julius nodded.

Tell me what that means, Julius.

Means if there's bugs there and traps there you might catch one.

We're in sixty fathom of water so soft mud means summer and early fall fishing, Julius. That is what it means.

Yeah, said Julius. 'Cept we fish this canyon year-round.

Osmond grinned and held a gloved hand in the air as if to silence the wind while he said, That is our secret. Lobsters like it here, and I cannot tell you why. That is something only the Lord knows.

Julius picked the traps and baited them and set them at the stern. Osmond watched his depth finder as he maneuvered over the narrow underwater canyon and he nodded to Julius and Julius pushed the first trap overboard as Osmond followed the canyon and one by one all ten traps pulled each other into the sea.

They hauled nineteen more trawls then steamed north and the coast rose like a black nebula disconnected from anything below. They ran for an hour before Osmond spotted the red and black metal buoys marking the Leviathan. This had been Nicolas's territory but Nicolas was gone now and here came fear riding the thought of Nicolas like a parasite and what had he done?
What had he done?
Osmond looked at his hands as if they alone had betrayed him but he knew they had not. He told himself that the death of Nicolas Graves did not belong to him any more than the life of Nicolas Graves had.